


The Basilisk

by a_quick_drink



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Blind Character, Fluff, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Paranormal, Rare Pairings, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where non-humans and old magic are shunned, wolves and their ilk are slowly fading from existence. When an old enemy with some frightening new abilities returns, the fate of both the Toretto and Shaw packs suddenly hangs in the balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Four beers into the night and Leon was nice and loose from the buzz; more playful and flirty and impossible for Vince to resist, turning him into a needy pup begging at his master's feet. If not for the scent of rival pack filling his nose, he gladly would've dropped to his knees and taken Leon right here in the hallway where anyone could catch them. The only need he felt right now, though, was to protect his mate.

"V, c'mon, I don't need a babysitter." Leon barked a laugh, wobbling as he took another step forward, not at all helping his case.

Plucking the bottle from Leon's hand and setting it on a nearby table, Vince grabbed Leon's arm a bit rougher than intended and steered him toward the couch in the living room. "Stay," he said, gently pushing Leon down onto the chewed up couch Dom hadn't bothered to replace. Couldn't have nice things with teething pups in the house. Vince side-eyed the fraying holes he'd left after a particularly rowdy full moon party. Grown pups weren't much better.

Leon scowled up at him for a second, and then burst into laughter. "I should be telling you that!"

"Ya dork." Vince chuckled and dropped a kiss on Leon's hair. "I mean it, babe. Stay here until I find out what's going on." He kept his voice low so no one else around them might hear. The rest of the wolves in the house were no doubt aware of the trespasser, but there was no sense ruining the night by getting everyone wound up over nothing. 

Before he could walk away, though, Leon caught his hand and stared up at him, frowning. "I can help."

Vince squatted down and stared into Leon's milky eyes. "I know ya can, but there's nothing to help with yet."

He brushed their lips together, and then left, trying not to think too much about how Leon's dejected expression made his heart hurt. Leon was plenty capable despite his handicap, and had learned how to use his other senses to paint mental pictures that sounded so brilliant Vince wished he could see them too. Leon could see fine, just not in a conventional sense. Still, Vince worried that he was coddling his boyfriend.

He glanced around the crowded living room. The other wolves met his gaze, asking wordless questions about what was going on and what they should do. Wolf or not, everyone here could contribute something in a time of need, and the message they were getting was no different than what he'd told Leon: _wait_.

Opening the back door, the stench of rival alpha nearly bowled him over. It had been years since he'd last smelled Tran blood, when the pack had attacked theirs. An alliance with the bloodthirsty Shaw pack shortly after had proven effective in deterring any rivals since then.

What had changed?

Dom already stood watch with Brian and Letty in wolf form at his feet, the three of them staring at the treeline separating the property's edge from the forest beyond. Fuzzy ears swiveled in Vince's direction, but no one moved or spoke.

"What's goin' on?" Vince asked quietly as he stood next to the smaller dark wolf that was Letty.

Leaves rustled as a figure hobbled from the shadows of the trees and into the open. Brian and Letty bristled, their ears flattening and lips curling back to expose powerful jaws neither would hesitate to use if the intruder made the wrong move.

"You've got no business bein' here, Tran," Dom called out. "Not after what you did to Jesse."

One of many wounded in the vicious turf wars, Jesse had been mauled so badly that it took days for him to recover enough to handle a shift back to his human form. Nearly two years later he still bore the scars from that incident, most now mental rather than physical.

None of them would forget that night, or who'd almost taken Jesse from them. They wouldn't forgive either.

"I know, just--" Hands up, Tran moved toward them until Letty darted out to cut him off, snapping her jaws at him in warning. He glanced between her and them, eyes wild with a panic Vince guessed had little to do with them. "Just listen for a sec."

Upon closer inspection, Tran looked like he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. _Serves him right._ One eye was dark with bruising and swollen shut. Plenty of nasty gashes oozed blood, though Vince suspected not all of the dark stains covering him were from his own blood. Tran fought hard and dirty; no way someone did this to him without ending up in similar shape.

"My pack's dead, Toretto."

"Sucks to be you then, huh?" Vince said.

Brian snorted in agreement and eased back onto his haunches when it was clear Tran posed no immediate threat.

"It was that hunter, Jakande," Tran spat, his lip curling in disgust. "He slaughtered them. Spared them one last breath so I could watch them die as he stole their souls. And now they're...nothing." Sadness tinged his words, and Vince suddenly felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He didn't want to think about that happening to anyone in his own pack. To Leon...

"Why are you here?" Dom demanded. He spoke slowly in that eternally patient way of his, pointed enough that he rarely needed to resort to raising his voice or make threats to get results.

Tran licked his lips. "Your pack's next on his list." He turned tail then and melted back into the darkness.

* * *

Someone snorted beside Leon. "Dontcha hate when they do that?" a female voice asked. "Sidelinin' us just 'cause we're not wolves."

Turning toward the unfamiliar voice, Leon managed a smile. "He means well."

Vince's overprotective streak was no reflection of his abilities. Maybe he didn't get in the thick of things with everyone else but he contributed in his own way. Vince was just doing what came natural for wolves--putting his family and mate's safety first.

Over the laughter and music, Leon noticed the skritch-skritching of someone writing.

"Name's Suki, by the way."

He heard the smile in her voice, and then more scratching. They'd never met until now, though Leon had heard plenty of stories about the spirited mermaid with a penchant for art, cars, and drowning those who tried harming her family. He'd also heard she looked nothing like the classic mermaid. She had webbed fingers and toes instead of a tail, gills, and pearlescent skin that shimmered in the light. He was glad to finally meet her since she'd always sounded like an interesting person to know.

Nothing else was said between them for another moment, though that scratching sound continued, and he realized she must be drawing. A few seconds later, Suki growled in frustration.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's this new design I've been working on for my car." She hummed, and he imagined her frowning at her sketchbook. "It's so clear in my mind, but it never looks right when I try to draw it." Leon's fingertips tingled. He knew just the thing to help.

"Describe it to me."

She did, and Leon conjured the image of a small car between them, no bigger than a model. Suki made a delighted squeal that made him grin, and the once hot pink car with exaggerated anime characters became aqua blue with sea creatures splashed along the sides. Unsatisfied with his first attempt at graphics, though, Leon waved a hand over his 3D model and the sharp lineart he'd started with softened. The animals she wanted were clearly visible, but now had a distinctive flair that he felt better suited the many facets of her personality.

A wiggle of his fingers and the fish began swimming.

Suki giggled. She sketched furiously for a minute, and then threw her arms around him. "I should take you back to Miami with me."

Before Leon could answer, the click-click sound of wolf paws trotting across hardwood floors drew his attention, followed by Vince's familiar woodsy scent. "Get yer own magician, Sushi Girl," Vince teased as he slipped in behind Leon. "This one's mine."

Leon smiled as his Vince's arms tightened around his waist. He'd always loved how openly affectionate the wolf was; how Vince was proud of him and made damn sure everyone knew who he'd chosen as his mate, especially when someone dared to insult Leon's lack of wolf blood. They never made that mistake twice.

"Everything okay?" Leon asked.

Pressing a kiss behind his ear, Vince hummed a positive note. Without the advantage of visual cues it was difficult for Leon to tell when someone lied to him; vocal cues could be just as deceiving. Vince hid the lie well, but the strong thump of his heart beating too quickly against Leon's back gave him away. Leon wouldn't press the issue, though, at least not right now. Whatever had happened outside either amounted to nothing or wasn't suitable for discussing around the current crowd. He suspected the latter.

Settling against his lover's chest, Leon instead explained what he'd been doing while Vince was away. Suki jumped in then, and at their prompting went through the pages of her sketchbook for them. The girl had talent, and Vince took the opportunity to commission her for new graphics for his car.

They stayed for almost another hour, by which point the party was already winding down anyway. It seemed early to Leon, who was used to parties that lasted well until dawn, although he suspected that whatever had Vince wound up likely had something to do with the early night.

As they walked to the car parked on the street, Leon noticed Vince tense against him. Something had definitely happened tonight, something that could still be lurking in the shadows. Tucking closer to Vince's side, Leon wasn't sure what worried him more--that something might be out there, or that he wouldn't notice it until it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Seated at the kitchen counter while Owen made breakfast, Carter stared bleary-eyed into the mug of coffee in his hands. He only drank the stuff out of habit, not because the caffeine did anything for him. His energy came from another source.

Owen slid a plate loaded with pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit in front of Carter. The food smelled wonderful but would register as cardboard on his palate--everything did. What Carter craved was souls, and judging by the lemony yellow aura currently surrounding his lover, Owen's soul would taste like decadent pastries drizzled with orange blossom water and rich honey.

Sliding his gaze over to Owen, Carter licked his lips. "After we eat," Owen said around a mouthful of food. Carter huffed at that, and then gave Owen a quick peck on the cheek as thanks before shoveling down the tasteless meal. His body still required the nourishment to function, same as any other human.

Once the plates were cleared and set in the sink for washing later, Carter grabbed Owen's hand and led him to the couch. Chuckling at his enthusiasm, Owen followed without question. It wasn't that the wolf considered Carter his master or the alpha to his beta--it was the simple desire to make his partner feel good, a favor Carter would repay tenfold later tonight.

Dropping onto the couch, Carter rested his hands on Owen's hips and guided the wolf into his lap. He'd learned early on that Owen liked being in control, and Carter was happy to oblige him since it prevented him from taking advantage of Owen.

Carter closed his eyes, smiling against Owen's lips when their mouths pressed together. He didn't need to go to this much trouble--a moment of eye contact was all he required to tap someone's soul--but this was the soul of the man he loved that he was dealing with, sweeter and more precious than anyone else's in the world. For him, this was a bonding as intimate as any other they shared, and so he treated it with the same reverence and care.

With the tip of his tongue, Carter coaxed Owen's lips apart, swallowing the soft moan that followed. Shivers rolled up Carter's spine at that first taste, and Owen leaned into him to deepen the kiss, allowing Carter to drink his fill of the sweet nectar that was Owen's soul. It was Owen's life force, the essence of who he was as both man and wolf--something any soul-eater would eagerly steal from him given such a chance. Carter felt fortunate Owen allowed him so much of that energy.

He trailed kisses along Owen's jaw and down his throat once he'd finished. "Thank you, _mi corazon_ ," he murmured. Blinking half-lidded eyes, Owen offered him a sleepy smile before dropping his head on Carter's shoulder to doze. A quick nap and he'd be good as new.

Rubbing circles along Owen's back, Carter let his eyes fall shut. He relished their lazy Sunday mornings like these; the two of them sated and content with nowhere else they'd rather be. He'd have to attend to his duties at the club later tonight, but until then he could enjoy the peace and quiet of their domestic life.

His phone suddenly chimed with a text message alert. Shifting so he wouldn't wake Owen, Carter slid out from underneath him before retrieving the phone from where he'd left it in the kitchen. The message was from Brian.

_Need to talk. You guys gonna be around today?_

Carter tapped out a quick response to his friend as he walked back to the living room. _All day. What's going on?_ He waited a beat, and then frowned at Brian's reply.

_Explain when we get there._

* * *

Brian squirmed in his seat under the watchful eye of Owen, who paced the length of the leather couch Carter currently occupied. His nervousness was more habit than anything; they were allies now, although it wasn't long ago that hadn't been the case. Still, the other wolf set Brian's teeth on edge.

Or maybe it was all this talk about Jakande.

Driven only by the thrill of the hunt, hunters like Jakande were little more than modern day barbarians. They believed the cruelty they committed against their quarry justified, claiming they were doing the world a favor by eliminating such monsters. Except they were more monster than any non-human was, Jakande being the worst. Stories among their community--stories he'd grown up on--told of how no one was safe from Jakande; how he skinned wolf pups alive for trophies and ate the flesh of merfolk. And now he could steal souls too? It was the stuff of nightmares.

"And you believed him?" Owen asked in disbelief after Dom finished recounting the events of the other night. Carter reached out to snag Owen's sleeve, the two sharing a look before Owen stopped, crossing his arms with a huff.

Dom shrugged. "His story checked out as far as bein' alone." After their meeting, he and Letty had followed Tran back to the hole he'd crawled out of, watching it for a few nights and finding that he was the sole occupant of the house he'd once shared with the rest of his packmates. It was one less threat to their pack, but that was little comfort when something much worse might be coming for them.

Carter considered this for a moment. "You're sure they didn't move out?" He glanced between them and Owen.

Everyone nodded. While most wolf packs stuck together no matter what was going on in their lives, less traditional packs like theirs understood the value in letting members move away from the stress of too many wolves under one roof. Wolves like Owen and his brother eschewed the pack dynamic altogether. But the Trans, a pack whose bloodlines were at least a millennium old, was as traditional as they came, and the only ways anyone left a pack like theirs was through abandonment or death. In this case, it was the latter.

"We don't know for sure that it was Jakande though," Brian added. Without proof, anything could've happened to the rest of that pack--a freak accident, rivals, infighting. Even Tran himself could be to blame.

"But why would he lie?" Owen asked.

"Why would he tell the truth?" Dom countered.

Carter's brows drew together. "I thought this Jakande guy was only a legend. A scary story parents tell misbehaving pups."

"That is true," Owen said, combing his fingers through Carter's auburn curls to draw his attention. "But I can assure you he's real." Sadness clouded his expression but he continued despite it. "He prefers to hunt in Europe and rarely leaves witnesses, so in many parts of the world he is only a myth."

"But he's here now?" Carter's own expression softened with concern, and Brian glanced away. There was something unspoken between the wolf and soul-eater, a private conversation Brian felt like he was intruding upon.

After a minute, Dom cleared his throat and the moment between their friends vanished as their attention returned to him. "Somethin' else Tran mentioned was that whoever did this also stole their souls." Dom's gaze settled on Carter.

"And did I do it?" If the implication bothered Carter he didn't let it show, maintaining his usual veneer of utter calm while Owen looked like he was ready to lunge over the couch and rip out Dom's throat.

"Didn't say that."

"But you thought it." Carter lifted an eyebrow in silent challenge, patting Owen's hand on his shoulder to soothe the beast intent on defending his mate's honor. "I get it, but there's more than one way to take a soul. Maybe Jakande is a soul-eater but I doubt this'd be news to you if he were. Probably some kind of black magic. No way of knowing for sure until he shows up again."

 _Again._ Brian shivered. If Jakande returned, there was no question family and friends would get hurt--or worse--and the thought made him sick to his stomach. A solitary hunter, Jakande would go after them individually rather than take on the entire pack at once. They would defend their territory until their last breaths, something he feared would happen sooner rather than later.

Sensing his discomfort, Dom threw an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze that allayed some of his fears. Together, they got up and went to the door. Halfway there, though, Brian hung back and pulled Owen aside.

"You okay?" Brian murmured.

"I'm fine, Bri, honest. It was a long time ago." Owen turned him around and steered him toward the door without another word. 

Brian let it go. It wasn't his place to pry, especially not when Owen's mate didn't even know. Pain was an all too common occurrence for wolves but he couldn't let that cloud his vision now, not when he was determined to prevent any more harm from befalling those closest to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Growling under his breath, Dom reached for the door handle. He'd just bowed his head to say grace before dinner when the doorbell rang. He'd ignored it. It'd been almost two weeks without a sign of Jakande, but he knew it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose. Until then, he intended to savor every moment of peace he got with his family.

The doorbell rang again. When it went unanswered this time, the person on the other side of the door became more persistent, laying on the button until it was Dom's ears that were ringing.

"What?" Dom barked as he yanked open the door. His irritation dissipated when he saw Vince's frantic expression.

"Leon's gone," Vince said, pushing past Dom. "It's Jakande. It's gotta be."

The commotion drew Brian and Letty from the dining room to investigate. Jesse peeked out from around a corner while Mia remained seated at the table to distract Jack.

Vince dragged a shaking hand through his hair as he paced the area between couch and television.

"What happened?" Dom asked.

Vince spun around to face him, throwing his hands out like he always did when he got wound up. "How the fuck should I know? He was already gone when I got back!" Fire raged in his eyes though it did little to mask the terror just behind that. "We need to find him before that bastard kills him,"--Vince bared his teeth--"if he hasn't already."

Letty touched Vince's arm to draw his attention. Both ranked equally as betas within the pack hierarchy, but he deferred to her for calm and direction when he had none. Vince eyed her with annoyance, though his shoulders loosened slightly. "All I know is the door wasn't forced open, but somethin' went down in the living room 'cause it's trashed." Frowning, Vince turned his gaze to the floor. His brows drew together. "I shouldn't have left him alone."

Dom gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You can't watch over him every second of every day. He wouldn't let you."

The corner of Vince's mouth ticked up into a faint smile.

"C'mon." Dom threw an arm around Vince's shoulder and steered him toward the dining room. "Let's work out a plan over dinner. Be like old times."

Not that much had changed over the years, only priorities. The pack had grown and suffered its share of hardships like always, but he tread more carefully anymore to protect the members who couldn't or shouldn't have to fight for themselves, and it'd served them well. But now that one of their own had been abducted, he was furious. Jakande would pay dearly for his mistake.

The only problem being that they still hadn't figured out where Jakande had holed himself up. Every capable wolf had scoured the area every night since Tran's appearance, but they'd come up empty-pawed. Jakande was a specter, a fact that didn't sit well with him, and until they could pinpoint his whereabouts, they would always be on the defensive. Their only hope right now was that the lead sent earlier that morning by friend and fellow wolf, Hobbs, would amount to something.

He glanced over at Brian, who'd returned to the seat next to him. Phone out, his mate's fingers flew over the tiny digital keyboard, his expression darkening by the second. When Brian looked to him, Dom's stomach sank.

"Carter's missing too."

* * *

Leon curled himself into as much of a ball as his body would allow despite his bound hands and the sharp pains whenever he so much as breathed.

He'd fought Jakande as well as he could given the circumstances, but it hadn't been enough. No surprise really. He'd never been much of a fighter even when he could see, knowing only enough to defend himself, relying more on finding a way out so he could run or someone like Vince who would finish the fight for him. His other senses had sharpened since losing his vision, but it was hardly enough to allow him to make sense of Jakande's movements let alone hope to escape.

His only hope now was that the others would somehow find him because his skills were useless.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Leon dropped his forehead to his knees. Adopted into the pack when he was a homeless teen, they'd treated him as though he were another wolf when he was anything but. Back then, before the magic had stolen his sight, it hadn't mattered because he felt useful to his family, able to provide a different skillset to help them ward off the ever-present threat of hunters. He _was_ different but in a way he was proud of.

Now he just felt like a liability.

He was Vince's weakness, and there was no doubt that the pack would risk their lives to rescue him. If they could even find him, that was. Jakande had so far successfully eluded them for weeks. It wasn't implausible that he'd been tailing them for much longer, and could continue to do so. What would Jakande do to him in that time? Sure, he left magicians alone as far as Leon knew, but what about a wolf sympathizer, especially one mated to a wolf? The bond he had with Vince would no doubt be exploited, and that scared him more than the inevitable prospect of torture or death.

Leon allowed himself another moment of feeling sorry for himself before he snapped out of it. Now was not the time. If he could form a mental picture of where he was being held, perhaps that could be of some use later. If not, well, at least it was something to do for the time being.

Muscles he didn't know he had screamed in protest as he pushed himself to his feet. It felt good to finally stretch his legs and warm up the joints that'd gone stiff from the damp cold of the room. Leaning against the concrete wall as a guide, he took slow steps around the room. It smelled musty, like he was underground in a basement or cellar. Neither option bode well. The pack would never be able to pick up his scent down here.

A staircase interrupted his circuit. Climbing up, he found a dozen stairs separated him from a heavy metal door that wouldn't budge under his shoulder. Definitely a storm cellar, which meant the darkness was due to a lack of windows. No one who stumbled upon the cellar could see him and he couldn't signal anyone.

Panic welled in his chest. He couldn't escape a concrete box on his own.

Defeated, he returned to his corner, tucking his arms between his chest and legs for warmth. He wished Vince was here. Or anyone for that matter. It wasn't that he was afraid of the dark--he'd lived in darkness since the blindness took hold--he just didn't want to be left to his thoughts while he awaited his fate.

The door creaked open and the sound of two men arguing filtered through. One of the men was Jakande, but he couldn't quite place the other.

"Fuck you, Jakande," the other man spat. "I'd rather die than help you."

"But you already are. We both know Shaw will come looking for you, and when he does? I will be waiting."

The two scuffled for a moment before Leon heard a grunt followed by the door banging shut. When he didn't hear anything else, Leon called out. "Carter?"

"Who's there?"

"Leon. From the Toretto pack."

A few careful footsteps. "Vince's magician, right?"

"You know Vince?"

"Not personally, but Brian talks. _A lot._ " They both laughed at that. The only person with a bigger mouth than Brian was his best friend, Roman, a selkie with an appetite to match.

A soft slapping sound filled the silence, like someone searching for something. "Is there even a goddamn light in here?" Peculiar to Leon was the slight tremble in Carter's voice. More slapping, this time louder and more desperate. Carter swore. "Is there _anything_ in here?"

"Us." Leon snickered to himself, though Carter groaned. It was a bad joke, but humor felt good and relieved some of his anxiety if only for a moment.

Carter shuffled along the dirty floor. When the sound grew closer, Leon reached out and groped at the air until he found Carter's leg. Carter dropped down next to him. A whiff of expensive cologne tickled Leon's nose. It was crisp and clean, a scent that evoked images of the ocean in his mind's eye. And freedom.

"So, magician, any chance you can create some light?"

Leon shook his head out of habit, forgetting Carter couldn't see him. "Not without the use of my hands."

"Zip-cuffs?"

"Yeah, but--"

A shiver rolled up Leon's spine as warm hands suddenly ghosted down his arm, searching. What Carter hoped to accomplish was beyond him because he'd already tried breaking out of the cuffs to no avail; the plastic was too thick and bit too deeply into his wrists. He'd only stopped trying because it hurt too much to continue.

Several minutes later--and much to Leon's surprise--the plastic loosened. Carter clucked his tongue. "Your wolf hasn't taught you very well."

Leon massaged his sore wrists, trying to ignore that they were slicked with a thin layer of his blood. "And why would I need to know anything like that?" he asked in a snippish tone. Everyone in the pack earned honest livings--unlike the Shaws--and passed among humans with ease. Pack rivalries were the larger threat anyhow, and those never involved abductions and hostage situations because wolves preferred to settle matters as they happened.

"The Toretto pack is well known among hunters. Only a matter of time before someone came for them--and us by extension. Not that we're really much different from the wolves." Leon imagined him shrugging. "We're all mongrels to hunters."

 _Mongrels._ Was that how other humans saw them? Saw him? He didn't feel like a mongrel. His family had a long line of proud magicians on both sides, so it wasn't any surprise when he started showing an aptitude for magic at a young age. As a magician, his skills weren't even threatening when they amounted to little more than parlor tricks. Nor would he consider himself in any way unattractive from what he'd last seen of himself; Vince assured him of that on an almost daily basis.

Different as he was, it was simply how he'd been born. And it was easily hidden. He would bet there were plenty more humans like them who kept quiet and hid their differences so as not to have others turn on them. That might've worked for him too had he not gotten so tangled up with a major pack. But they were family. And just as human and unique and special as he or anyone else was. Why anyone would deny that and continue perpetuating myths in a world they'd all shared since the beginning of time boggled his mind. And now he and Carter were here because of that antiquated attitude, likely facing judgment from a man who played god. The only monster here was Jakande.

"So what's the plan then?" Leon asked with renewed hope. In all of his various unsavory activities, surely Carter would have an idea.

"He'll come back, they always do. And when he does," Carter said, malice dripping into his voice like poison, " _we'll_ be ready for him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a mini chapter for the time being because I liked it too much too keep sitting on it until I figure out what happens next. :p

Carter had never been more thankful to have light. Though there wasn't anything to see down here than bare concrete walls, it made him feel better knowing for sure there wasn't something lurking in the darkness with them.

He waved a hand through a candle Leon had conjured nearby. There was no heat and no distortion like there was with magicians still learning their craft. Leon excelled at his ability on some level and Carter wondered what else he was capable of if he could manage a room full of these realistic candles.

"How long do you think we've been here?" Leon asked as he lowered his hands to his knees, palms open to the ceiling like he'd just struck a meditative pose.

Carter's stomach growled in reply. "Long enough that I'll starve to death if we don't get out of here soon."

Leon barked a laugh.

As melodramatic as it sounded, though, Carter wasn't joking. It'd been hours since he'd eaten actual food, and days since he'd allowed himself the luxury of satisfying his baser cravings with a taste Owen's soul. Owen would let him feed every day if he so desired, but theirs was never a symbiotic relationship. Instead, he sipped at the souls of strangers for his fill and reserved Owen as a decadent treat he allowed himself only occasionally. He needed to feed soon or he was as good as dead.

Carter broke the silence that again settled between them. "So how did you end up with the pack anyway?"

"Grew up with em," Leon answered. "When my parents died in an accident, the Torettos took me in as one of their own 'cause I was practically family anyway."

"You and your wolf been together all that time?"

A contented smile curved Leon's lips. "As friends, yeah. But he needed to grow up and get some of those beta insecurities out of his system before I'd get any more involved with him." Leon chuckled to himself. "But don't tell him I said that."

Carter was glad he hadn't fallen in with Owen until the wolf was pushing thirty, a good thing according to Deckard who'd shared numerous embarrassing tales of his little brother's antics as a young beta trying to buck his place in the werewolf hierarchy. Most betas went through such a phase before ultimately accepting their role as second best or being banished from their pack. Dissatisfied with the limited options, Owen had walked away and formed his own pack of outsiders and outcasts that was more far-reaching network than close-knit family.

"What about you?" Leon asked. "How'd you end up with wolves?"

Huffing a laugh, Carter shook his head at himself. "Ran into Owen one night at my club. Literally. Wasn't paying attention to where I was going and walked right into him," Carter explained, leaving out the detail that he'd been the one hunting the man with the intriguing aura only to find himself the prey when they'd collided. The moment their eyes met he knew he wasn't dealing with an ordinary human. "Been together ever since, and that was...almost seven years ago."

Carter tipped his head back against the wall as the happy memory lingered in his mind. He hated this--hated the waiting, hated feeling helpless. All he wanted to do was kill Jakande himself so he could go home to Owen, who'd be furious Carter had been taken from him. Whether Owen could figure out where they were, however, seemed like an impossibility Carter didn't want to put too much thought into. For now he would assume they would have to rescue themselves, something he wasn't very capable of at the moment.

He licked his dry lips. "I don't want to ask this of you, but would you share some of your energy with me?"

The room darkened as candles started to flicker and disappear. Leon's smile fell as his expression turned into worry. "How much do you need?" he asked warily.

"A lot, which is why I'm asking."

More candles disappeared. The request had startled Leon so much that he was losing control over his ability. Carter understood. According to misconceptions that still ran rampant, soul-eaters were to be feared as untrustworthy beings who'd devour entire souls once they'd gotten a taste of one. While a handful of soul-eaters were so inclined, the majority were like himself, only taking what they needed because they respected the complicated and misunderstood relationship they shared with their food source.

Which wasn't to say he'd never taken a soul because he had, several times when someone deserved it. But those souls were always dark and bitter like burnt coffee, revolting and unsatisfying in every sense, and he always wound up violently ill afterward; they were like food poisoning to him. Over-indulging on good souls was just as bad, leaving the diner feeling like they'd eaten an entire pizza or gallon of ice cream in one sitting.

Yes, he could devour Leon's soul if he wanted, but there were plenty of good reasons not to, including that he simply liked the guy.

Dark brows furrowed as Leon worried his lower lip between his teeth. "What'll happen to me if you do?"

"You'll feel super tired and need to sleep for a bit to restore your energy." Carter kept his voice light, hoping to ease Leon's fears.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Leon considered the option for what felt like hours to Carter. If they were going to do this, it needed to happen now so Leon would have time to rest. A groggy magician would be just as useless as a starving soul-eater. When Leon finally opened his eyes and gave a little nod, Carter moved to sit in front of him, careful not to disturb Leon's hands or it'd be lights out.

"Lift your head," Carter said gently. Milky eyes stared back at him and he shivered. He knew Leon was completely blind, but it still felt like he saw Carter and was staring into _his_ soul. It took him a moment to shake the feeling before he stared back, searching for that glimmer of a soul he knew would be delicious if Leon's brilliant green aura was anything to go by.

Leon's soul never revealed itself to him. It was there somewhere--he could sense it, could taste its faint sweetness--but it remained safely hidden behind the fog clouding Leon's eyes.

Carter swore under his breath. "You can lose the lighting."

"But I thought you needed it."

"I do, but apparently magicians are safe from the prying eyes of hungry soul-eaters."

Leon flipped his hands over, sending the room back to pitch blackness. "Is there another way?"

It was Carter's turn to be uncomfortable with the situation. He rubbed at the back of his neck out of nervous habit even though Leon couldn't see him. "The only other way is by..." He drew a deep breath to try calming his nerves. "I'd have to kiss you," he finally blurted out.

"Oh."

"Yeah." The concept didn't bother Carter, but Leon didn't strike him as the type who'd kiss anyone other than Vince.

Leon's voice was so quiet when he said "okay" that Carter swore he was hearing things. "Wait, what?"

"Just do it before I change my mind," Leon said with a nervous laugh.

Carter reached for Leon in the darkness, following the line of his arm up to his head and cupping his chin in his hand. "I promise I won't enjoy this," he teased to lighten the mood.

A grumbling sound rumbled in Leon's throat as their lips met. He refused Carter entry at first, but quickly relented, the tension bleeding out of him as Carter lapped at his soul. The energy surged through his veins. Leon tasted like green tea and mint, limes dipped in sugar, and a sharp bite of something that reminded Carter of an unfinished rum that would smooth into something intoxicating with age. Such feistiness and vibrance masking a cotton candy softness. Vince was a lucky man. Delicious as Leon's soul was, though, it would never compare to Owen's.

Feeling lightheaded and dizzy, Carter broke off the kiss before he lost control. This would last him half a day easily, longer if he continued conserving movement like he was.

Leon groaned softly, falling forward into Carter's waiting arms. Carter gently maneuvered the magician so his head was propped up on Carter's thigh. Shrugging out of his jacket, Carter threw it over him and ignored the chill against his own back while the warmth of Leon's soul spread through him. He'd been fine, not realizing until Leon lit up the place that the magician only had on a thin t-shirt and jeans and was shivering his way through maintaining the illusion. For giving him so much, the least Carter could do was give the him his jacket. And hopefully get them out of here when the time came.


End file.
